Insomnis Veritas
by x-HurtingInside-x
Summary: A short fic of the misunderstandings and truth behind dreams. Is it real? Or just a horrible nightmare?


Insomnis Veritas

The rain washed down the stained glass windows almost hypnotically as he stared at them. He had no idea where he currently was, nor why he was dressed solidly in black. He noted his surroundings carefully. He was sitting in the back pew in a church, but he was alone in solitude. He found this odd; a place of worship usually held at least a few church goers. The mood seemed solemn, even though he was the only visible entity within the establishment.

Harry Potter turned in his pew as the heavy oak doors opened. A minister entered quietly, walking with his head bowed, the sound of pages fluttering as he flicked through the bible in his grasp. Harry followed him with his eyes, startled as his gaze fell upon a mass of black further ahead along the knave. The people were not there before, he concluded, pondering quickly where they had appeared from.

His thoughts were cut short as another set of people entered. Six men came into view, all dressed morbidly. They all looked somber, a sleek black casket perched upon their shoulders as they marched methodically toward the front. Realization dawned on Harry that he was part of a funeral service. He watched the men pass, and gasped.

Ron Weasley headed the congregation, a lone tear slipping down his face. He looked older, but not by many years. Behind him was Seamus, who was staring straight ahead as if in a daze. All of the pallbearers looked slightly more mature, all of them early-twenties at most. These included Dean, who looked worse for wear, and Neville, who's face appeared pained beyond conviction.

Harry followed them with his gaze, curious and confused at why none of them had spotted him. They set the casket down, Ron and Seamus opening it slowly. They reeled back as if being struck by something hot, taking their places in the front pew.

Harry moved a few pews closer as a woman stood, a lone white lily loose in her grasp. She walked steadily to the open coffin and peered inside. He heard her begin crying softly as she lent in, setting the flower inside. He sympathized with her, clearly loosing someone dear to her.

Ron then stood, a woman he believed to be Hermione at his side. She held the hand of a young girl, no older than two. The family made their way to the lone woman, Hermione enveloping her into a hug as Ron picked up the little girl.

The minister spoke then, the mourners all sitting and observing him.

"The path to Hell is often paved with good intentions; we do well to remember that here. This young man who we are gathered here today to pay our respect to, died in good faith. His life was ended tragically whilst fulfilling those good intentions. He sacrificed his life to save others, and therefore did not die in vain. The evil that brought him down has now been eradicated, and hopefully we can all move on.

If I could ask Ms. Weasley to say a few words-"

Harry's senses heightened as Ginny stood. She was the same woman with the lily. He instantly stood and moved to the front, looking around. He spotted Mrs. Weasley next to Charlie, crying silently into his shoulder.

He didn't see himself among the mourners, but most of his friends. They all looked grave, some of the women crying, their husbands and boyfriends comforting them. Ron and Hermione looked worst of all, pale and tired eyes gazing up at Ginny as she sighed, her words shaky:

"He was a good man. He didn't deserve this. Nobody does, but least of all him. He did nothing but good in his life, helping anyone he could. I think that's what attracted me to him in the first place. We were together since I was fifteen-"

She paused as if reminiscing to herself, a slight smile gracing her lips before she continued.

"-He stuck by me through the bad times. We shared good times, happy times. I know nobody in this room will forget what a caring, compassionate person my fiancée was. Although the people we love are stolen from us, and even though they're gone, we know they're always with us; I know he's watching us all now. I'll be waiting for him the rest of my life."

A looming sense of dread filled Harry from inside as he watched Ginny. He made his way to the open coffin slowly, dreading what he would see. The air forced itself from him as he stared down at his lifeless form. He looked asleep, no visible signs of murder or suicide; demise or death. This image haunted him as he continued to stare. He was so pale, his skin tinged blue. His eyes were closed, the lily Ginny had lain down across his non-moving chest. His dead form wore the same clothing as he did, a solid black. He forced himself to look up, and as he did, he felt he had to run, to get away.

Harry reached the courtyard of the church. He saw the fresh plot of dug-up earth where he was to be buried. He stared at the grey tombstone, intrigued as he read:

**Harry James Potter**

Born: 31.07.1980  
Died: 29.03.1999  
Died saving those who needed defending.

Rest in peace. 

His mind was swimming in deluded thoughts. What had happened on March the Twenty-Ninth, Nineteen Ninety Nine? How had he died? Did he take Voldemort with him or was he still corrupting the world? His contemplations were once again disturbed as the funeral procession made its way over, the mourners still oblivious to his presence.

The coffin was lowered quickly, everyone leaving rapidly. Ginny was left standing at the pit of the grave, Hermione at her side. They were both looking down into the precipice, eyeliner marks smeared down tear stained cheeks.

Harry made his way to them, standing next to them. He tried touching Ginny's shoulder, but he simply passed through her. This heightened her senses though as she looked up and around, a bemused expression on her face. He tried it again and she did the same. She shook the feeling off though, returning her gaze.

"Y'know-" Ginny began, looking beside her, "-it's like he's still here. I can feel him, he's here."

Hermione nodded as another tear slid down Ginny's cheek. Harry tried to wipe it away, but it fell to her chin, slipping to the ground. He felt his own tears welling up as he grasped her tightly, wishing all her pain to subside. She didn't hug him back; he wasn't really there.

Harry stood there, clinging onto her firmly for as long as she stood still. Time seemed to trickle away, the feeling of just the pair of them as the world slipped away. It seemed perfect, immortal almost, encrusting the emotions he'd always felt for her, even when times were rough. The moment was everlasting.

Invisible hands seemed to grasp his mid-section suddenly and pull him away from her, throwing him down into the freshly dug grave. The casket was open and he fell straight into the satin lining. It was luckily empty, causing a relapse of understanding. Where had his dead body gone? He realized the reality of what was going to happen before it did.

The coffin door slammed shut, locking him inside. He pounded his fists against the lid, desperate to break free. Claustrophobia set in as he felt his lungs hyperventilating, hearing earth fall atop the ceiling in front of him. He closed his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness as his worst nightmare came true; he was being buried alive.

He awoke with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes shooting open and trying to focus in the dim light coming through the window. Beads of cold sweat littered his forehead as his breathing calmed. He grasped beside him, feeling Ginny's frame asleep next to his. He snaked his arms around her comfortingly, pulling her closer as she stirred.

"Harry? What's wrong?" she whispered through the darkness, gently touching his cheek and twisting a stray lock of hair from his brow.

He closed his eyes as she kissed his temple, "Just a nightmare."

**Insomnis Veritas – "In dreams, there is truth"**


End file.
